In front of chalkboards, benches and bunk beds, Romeo swoons:
“Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books. But love from love,
toward school with heavy looks.” The bell soon rings and the four school boys
hide a tattered, banned copy of “Romeo and Juliet,” embracing yet another day
of austere Catholic prep school. In unison they march and chant, “Thou shalt
not, thou shalt not.”
Thus is the
temperament of “Shakespeare’s R&J,” a boisterous production at Blackfriars Theatre. In daylight, these young men adhere to
the regulations of their Catholic high school — a society of sinlessness, gender complementarianism, and Latin
conjugations. At night, however, they uncover a book that makes them clamor and
tear at the pages — “Romeo and Juliet” is their rebellious connection to a freer
world.
When the
students begin their bedroom production, they inhabit their characters like
avatars. Their performance starts as a boy’s room joke, but it unexpectedly
turns into a vehicle for earnest expression and exploration. Who these young
men are and who they are becoming is revealed as Romeo and Juliet dance, as the
Nurse coddles, or as Mercutio proudly boasts. The layers are woven and elusive.
Where does the student’s play end and “Romeo and Juliet” begin? It’s left to
the audience to interpret what is real, what is acted, and what is plurality.
This award-winning
script comes from Rochester native Joe Calarco, who
was also the first to direct this play in New York City in 1997 with a production
that ran for over a year. Since then, “Shakespeare’s R&J” has been
performed around the world, including Chicago, London, Egypt, and Tokyo, picking
up nominations and awards along the way. Calarco –who
earned a Lucille Lortel Award for the play — is now
the Director of New Works at Washington, D.C.’s Signature Theatre.
Accepting Calarco’s challenge of a play-within-a-play is veteran
director Fred Nuernberg. Nuernberg
leads with exemplary focus: The production is sharp and superbly mapped,
managing to avoid the common pitfalls that sometimes haunt ambitious
narratives. “Shakespeare’s R&J” is charming to watch because it feels so
simple. The only real prop, besides beds and benches, is a red cloth that fits
snugly into every scene and scenario — appearing as blood, scarf, dagger,
blanket, and vial. It is a signal of Calarco’s great
script, but also of Nuernberg’s wonderfully executed
minimalism.
The cast is given wide room to work.
Showing great range, the boys blossom with teenage
hormones: howling with passion and fervor, reciting declarations of love with
unrestrained eloquence, or hiding behind timidity. Occasionally, a line falls
flat and the Shakespearean imagery drops. We are reminded who they are and
where we are; somehow, it all works to the play’s advantage. Shawn Gray is
outstanding as Romeo/Student No. 1: His performance is both earnest and
commanding, an expectation the Romeo character demands of him. Alex Pennise, a young up-and-comer, plays Juliet/Benvolio/Student
No. 2. Dipping in and out of these characters, he transforms with ease, and his
chemistry with Gray is undeniable. Even in collared shirts, vests, and ties,
these two inhabit Romeo and Juliet without compromise.
Carl Del Buono has a tall order as Mercutio/Friar Laurence/Lady
Capulet/Student No. 3, but his on-stage persona is absolutely riveting. Rusty
Allen rounds out the production and adds a much needed balance as Nurse/Tybalt/Balthasar/Student
No. 4. He is hilarious and heart-warming, and Allen and Del Buono,
together, provide a rich texture that make this production so rewarding.
Perhaps most
moving about “Shakespeare’s R&J” is how the cast speaks so boldly through
body language. Heartbreak and desire, friendship and envy, all through downcast
glances, or soft breaths, or hopeful hugs. These understated notions play such large
roles, though maybe at times too fleeting. When Romeo and Juliet kiss, Student
No. 3 watches helplessly from under the bed. It is an incredibly telling
reaction. And when Friar Laurence refuses to marry the ill-fated duo because of
unexplored jealousy, Student No. 4 is stuck and frightened, caught between two
worlds of uncertainty. In the midst of this multidimensional subversion of an
ancient classic, we are indeed watching something tangible: a coming-of-age
tale about self-discovery and the expression of truth — for these boys, staved
off at dagger’s length.
This article appears in Feb 18-24, 2015.
